


A Cup of Coffee, a Sandwich, and You

by TehrBear



Series: School Spirit [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-13 09:49:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3377066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TehrBear/pseuds/TehrBear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian works at a bakery.</p><p>Mickey stops by a lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Would You Be My Cherry Pie?

**Author's Note:**

> This has not been beta'd so all mistakes are my own. If you find any grammar/spelling mistakes please do tell me.
> 
> I do not own the characters but I own all other elements of the story which is completely fictional and not to be taken seriously at all.

            When Ian started his shift, he wasn’t expecting too many people to come in. Rush hour was usually right after classes had ended, when all the students were getting food and then disappearing into their dorms or the library to study. He was mostly there to make sure the bread for the next morning was ready to be put into the oven and everything was neat and tidy for closing. He never got more than five or six customers to entertain for the day.

That night, right at the brink of closing time, when he was heading out the back door to throw away the last of the day’s trash, the mechanical chime connected to the door beeped, indicating a customer. He was super annoyed, considering that he had thought he had already fulfilled his quota for the day (he had had twelve customers which was way more than he was willing to deal with during such a late shift).

Ian put the trash bag down and frowned. He couldn’t see who was at the other side of the counter and he didn’t care. The sole reason he even took this shift was because it usually so quiet. He could finish his coursework and still get paid for doing virtually nothing. Not even his boss bothered coming in to supervise him at this time of the day.

“Anyone here?” A voice floated in. Ian frowned some more.

“We’re closing!” he called back, hoping the person would just fucking leave.

“Bullshit! Sign says you’re open till eleven. There’s still ten fucking minutes.”

Ian sighed, exasperated, but made his way to the counter, dragging his feet.

“What can I get you?” he asked as politely as he could. Looking up to meet the eyes of his customer, he recognized the guy to be someone in a couple of his classes. Mickey or something.

 _He better hope he doesn’t get stuck in group assignment with me_ , Ian thought to himself. _I’ll get him back for not letting me close ten minutes earlier._

“You got any of those croissants you usually sell at breakfast?”

“Yeah, but they’re kinda stale.”

“Fuck it. I’ll take em.”

Ian raised a brow. “How many?”

“How many you got?”

“Six.”

“I’ll take six,” Mickey said, grinning.

Ian put the croissants in a paper bags and put them on the counter.

“I’ll also have… uh, dozen almond crisps and three chocolate chip muffins,” Mickey said as Ian rang him up. “And two blueberry muffins if you got any.”

The almond crisps went into a paper bag and the muffins in a box. “Anything else?”

“Uh… a coffee?”

“Sorry, machines broken.” Mickey swore under his breath. “I think the kitchen in Dorm F has a working coffee machine though.”

“I’m kinda not allowed in Dorm F.”

“Sucks. That’ll be $23.50.”

Mickey scowled. “That’s a fucking rip off.” Still, he got out the money and tossed it on the counter.

Ian counted out the change and passed it back.

“I’ll be out of your fucking hair.” Mickey grabbed his things and left.

Ian threw out the trash and locked up.


	2. The Apple in My Pie

The next day, Mickey got in after Ian had already closed the place up. But Ian was in a good mood because he’d gotten an A on his paper, so he let Mickey in.

“Same as yesterday? We have twelve croissants left over this time.”

“Nah,” Mickey said. “What loaves you got?”

“Banana bread, cinnamon apple, date and nut and… Canadian white.”

“That’s a thing?”

“I think it has like extra protein or some shit. It’s just regular bread.”

“So there’s no gingerbread loaf?”

Ian sighed. “It’s almost Christmas, so they sell out pretty quick.”

“Damn.” He eyed the cakes in the display fridge. “What the hell is Summer Kiss?”

“Raspberry mousse and white chocolate,” Ian said, leaning over the counter. “Linda gives everything really weird names.”

“Who’s Linda.” Ian tells Mickey she owns the bakery. “Towelhead?”

Ian rolls his eyes. “You buying it or not?”

“Fuck raspberry.”

 _Tastes really good licking it off someone else’s lips,_ Ian thought, recalling a fond memory.

Mickey laughed. “What?”

Ian turned redder than his hair and pushed himself off the counter, turning away and pretending to be busy with the cash register. “Nothing.”

“You know what,” Mickey said, “I’ll take it.”

Ian turned even redder. He lifted up the counter and ducked underneath it so he could get to the fridge. Mickey turned to his side to let Ian through but the space was still pretty limited. Their chests were almost touching and Mickey had an amused look in his eyes that almost made Ian angry.

Ian reached for the handle, but didn’t pull it. “Uh… you gotta move.”

Mickey smirked and rubbed his chin with his hand, thoughtful for a second. He stepped away from the fridge, still smirking. Ian opened the fridge and got the cake out. He put it into a box and pushed it over the counter into Mickey’s hands.

“$12.30.”

Mickey counted out the exact change and put it down.

“Now I just gotta find someone willing to eat this thing so I can lick it off their lips.” He winked at Ian before he left and Ian wondered what he did to anger whichever ethereal entity was punishing him by turning his thoughts into words. Mickey probably thought he was super weird now.

But then he realized that he didn’t even know this guy. So what the fuck did it matter to him?


	3. Your Name On This Carrot Cake

Ian didn’t work the next day. He had a summative project due before Christmas break and he wanted to get it over and done with and then he could concentrate on exams for other classes, so he took the night off and pummeled through his work. He went to bed a couple of hours before his morning alarm would ring, happy with his project and thoroughly exhausted.

He woke up with sun streaming through his dorm room window, which was strange because his first class started before the sun had the chance to come up—

_Shit!_ He was deadass late and his professor would not be happy.

Not bothering to change from the clothes he had had on the day before or even raiding Dorm F for their coffee, he sprinted to his class with his textbooks and laptop painfully bouncing against his spine. His professor and a whole bunch of students sitting in the front of the lecture hall shot him dirty looks as he burst in loudly with meaningless apologies on his lips. A bunch of students even groaned out loud in protest as if whatever sentence the professor was in the middle of was going to change their fucking life or something.

He scanned the hall quickly. He knew it was a full lecture and he’d been lucky to even get a spot in it considering how many people signed up for it every semester, so it wasn’t surprising that there was only one seat available. It was at the very back of the room and next to… Mickey fucking Milkovich.

(He’d looked up the guy’s full name in the dorm directories after he’d tried to convince himself that he didn’t care what the guy thought of him.)

Mickey grinned at him as he approached, moving his textbook off of the desk next to him and his bag off the seat. Ian sat down quietly and tried to pay attention to the lecture.

“Where were you last night?”

“What?”

“Towelhead,” Ian glared, “sorry, _Linda_ , didn’t let me in to get my sugar fix.”

“With all of the things you’ve bought so far, you seriously have nothing left? How can you eat so much in junk in one night?”

“If you didn’t fucking realize, college is stressful. I need sugar if I’m gonna survive.”

Ian laughed softly.

“Don’t fucking judge. A man takes what he can get. And it’s not easy to get anything that hits harder than sugar on this campus. This place is hell.”

Ian ignored him and pretended to listen to the professor. He didn’t have a clue what the old man was talking about.

“So… where were you?”

“Had a project.”

A whole chorus of “Shh!” erupted from the room, calling the professors attention to the pair.

“Mr. Gallagher, Mr. Milkovich,” Ian was surprised that in a class so big, the professor knew the individual names of his students. His other professors gave them nicknames based on appearance in the most humiliating and degrading manner. “Perhaps you two would like to share your thoughts on Freud's study of psychoanalysis using hypnosis.”

“No thank you, sir,” Mickey replied, while Ian attempted to shrink behind his desk.

“Then would you kindly shut your fucking traps so that I may continue with my lecture?”

“Will do sir.” Mickey leaned in close to Ian. “He’s my favourite.”

They didn’t speak for the rest of the class and Ian skipped every other class that he had with Mickey that day.


	4. Tangerine

Mickey came in really late again, but a half an hour or so before closing, so technically it could be considered early. Ian was rolling out some dough when he heard Mickey's voice drifting through the doors to the kitchen. He peeled off his gloves before going out to the front.

“I’m in the mood for some _carrot_ cake,” Mickey said when he saw Ian.

“Sorry, you just missed the last of it. You really should come earlier.”

“How about some _vanilla apricot_ scones.”

“Um… we don’t sell those.”

“You got no apricot to offer me?” Ian shook his head frowning. “Okay, how about something with mangoes? Nice, juicy, _orange_ mangoes.”

“I think Linda’s allergic to mangoes. So she can’t exactly make anything with them.”

“What about some butternut squash muffins with a little cream cheese on top.”

“Dude, that sounds disgusting. You want something normal or not?”

“No pumpkin either?”

“October is long gone.” Mickey scowled at him, looking frustrated. “Geez, I’m sorry we don’t have what you want. You don’t have to glare me down like that.”

Mickey ran a hand through his hair mumbling a quiet ‘are you fucking slow or what?’ under his breath. Ian didn’t pay any attention.

“Oh wait! I saved some gingerbread loaf for you.”

Mickey grinned as Ian ran to the kitchen and brought out half a loaf that was already wrapped up ready to go. “Oh you saved some _ginger_ bread loaf for me, did you?”

Ian gave him a weird look as he handed him the loaf. “Yeah, didn’t I just fucking say that?”

“Yes you did,” Mickey said smirking deviously. He paid for the loaf and left, shooting Ian an undecipherable look over his shoulder as he walked out of the bakery.

At first Ian assumed Mickey would think he was weird. But now he was sure Mickey was the strange one.

 _Butternut squash muffins_ , he thought to himself. _With cream cheese? That’s fucking disgusting._

And what was with all those orange foods. That was an autumn thing wasn’t it? Red and green was more in the Christmas spirit.

As he turned around to go back into the kitchen, he caught his reflection in the steel side of one the toasters. Particularly the colour of his hair.

Oh.

_Oh._


	5. The Reddest Berry

Ian had gone to his classes the next day but he’d made sure to sit as far away from Mickey as possible and dart out the room the second the lecture was done to avoid any kind of contact with him. Which was stupid. He was working that night and Mickey was sure to come into the bakery so it was only a matter of time.

His cheeks burned just at the thought of it.

His shift, for the first time ever, was slow as fuck. He had a lot to do, but all he could manage to do was anticipate Mickeys visit. Which never came. He kept the bakery open for an extra half an hour just in case.

Mickey wasn’t in any of the classes they shared the next morning.

But his wait was finally over when Mickey walked in, surprisingly near the start of his shift.

“The coffee machine is fixed,” he told Mickey as he walked up and leaned over the counter towards Ian.

“Great.”

“Any special requests today?”

“Yeah, actually.”

“What will it be?” Ian hoped that Mickey wasn’t too turned off by him not recognizing the advances he’d been making two nights ago.

“Well,” Mickey let a thoughtful expression take over his face, “I’d like a cup of coffee, a sandwich and…”

Ian wanted to get started on the coffee but Mickey’s eyes met his and held him in place.

“...and you.”

Ian grinned. “I can arrange that.”

“Yeah? Think you can handle it?” Ian didn’t answer. Only asked Mickey what kind of coffee and sandwich he wanted, and got them for him.

After Mickey had paid, Ian grabbed the wrist of the hand that was holding the sandwich. “You know when my shift ends.”

Mickey nodded and smiled before slipping his wrist out of Ian’s feather light grip and leaving.

He was waiting outside when Ian locked up.

“My dorm,” Mickey said. “Roommate left for break early.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!


End file.
